The Door
by daftheed
Summary: The door protects Elsa from the universe, from herself, from freedom. Fear and misery join hands. The door knocks incessantly, its speech carries her pain. Always knocking, why cant they just open it?
1. Chapter 1

**I own none of these characters of course. **

**This is the first fanfiction Ive written. Feel free to criticise. **

**I am currently debating whether I want to have this be a oneshot or multi chapter. **

**Im unsure how I feel. Let me know what you think, and thank you. **

Her hands were shaking, again. Little nine year old Elsa had been forced awake by a sound that she couldn't quite pin down. She breathed coolly for a moment and sat up from her bed. _Nighttime._ The palace seemed dead. _Nothing new then. _She looked around the room, breathing, taking each breath as a sip of water._ Breathing, just breath_. Finally she looked to the door and the sweat in her palms went swiftly cold. _That door._

The day after the accident, when the lock became common with the door and the hinges tightened, Elsa had just spent her first night sleeping alone almost since she was born. The door remained silent. Food was brought wordlessly from time to time, with little fuss. A surreal change of pace, she thought. But the door was quiet. She had, despite her fear, became accustomed to the door over the course of the day. Then the knocking occurred. Like a sudden deadline, it dropped itself into the room. The door was not talking. It was Anna, _dear Anna_. The younger sibling said something incoherent but the sound of her voice fired the previous mornings events to the front and center of Elsas mind. _No, Don't talk Anna_. Something like grief washed over her. The knocking persisted. Her reclling became clearer. She grew to a pitch of anger then instantly regretted it. She literally bowed to her knees, her head and neck seeming off balance. She began to drown in her thoughts without the past heights to reclaim her. Still there was knocking, the tone of innocence, the drowning. _Don't talk Anna. I love you but please, don't talk. Don't knock. Come in, while theres time_. She constructed this monologue despite the rapping at the door. Then, with a sudden blank heart, the little girls eyes watered as she said her name aloud.

"Anna"

She waited with her defences failing. Silence. A silence that was so loud. Anna had gone. _Come back, I wont ever hurt you anymore but please come back, I was ready_. Her vocal chords froze inwards, not another word said. She had missed her chance. _Stupid girl_. Guilt and shame ruled her thoughts, her being, whenever she returned to the first succeeding day. Guilt over her indecision when it counted, when her voice was willing, she failed herself, but far more, she failed Anna. There the shame would lie, forever festering. _If she would only open the door._

But Anna no longer worried her, at least not at all times. The door protected her, oppressed her. Some days she would waken (Or nights, the clock no longer mattered) to find the door comforting, with its ornate paintjob and its aged but strong wood matching the room around her, paint and all. Its hues defended her from the universe, protected her from it, kept her from it. Kept Anna from her, as it should be. Other times, she hated it. The way it spoke to her, the way it attacked her walls and brought her back to the first day. When the tears were not enough, Elsa would throw them at the door. It thawed quickly. Too quickly. Silly girl, she thought. Once more ice would claim the door. And again, and again. Channelling all thought to its annihilation. How dare it separate her from Anna, from her sibling. Then her Hands would shake, her nails would chatter, clattering against one another as she felt so strained from the uncontrolled effort. Weakened, she would sleep, tired and feeling pathetic.

She looked once more at the damned door, with its discoloured palette and flaky ailing oar. It was silent and neither she or the door said a word.

Then, the doors knob tentatively but stridently turned.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I made a second chapter after all. One warning I will give you, reader. I cant promise consistency in these updates. I am, unfortunately, a serial procrastinator. But I like this quaint story and I want to run as far as I can with it. Thank you for reading**

**And I don't own the characters so, yeah.**

The handle turned with a profound groan

Without warning, Elsa suddenly felt intensely afraid. Of what was not yet clear. _Is this it?_ In three seconds her mind contorted to all kinds of conclusions, her brain being driven wild with speculation and fear. With a gust of warm air preceding him, her Father emerged.

_Papa, wise papa. _

"Elsa, have you been using your powers over today?"

The question baffled the 9 year old as the concept of day had by now become equal to that of a candle, a light source. _Well yes, why would you put me here unless…_

"What do you mean, Papa?"

With an abrupt start the temperature unceremoniously dropped, almost with a thud. _Anna_.

"Papa. Did I hurt anyone? Did I hurt Anna?" Her mind had begun to swirl and ooze with panic.

"No no, Elsa, calm down"

"Did I? Answer me Papa"

Her eyes grew heavy with water and She had a horrible realisation of what was to come. _Don't shake. Don't let it out. Don't._ She swooned left and ran for her cabinet where her gloves were located, all the while fighting back the thought to weep. She thimbled through the cabinet and gruffly placed the padded gloves around her hands. At the same instance, her father began to notice his daughters' alarm.

With the gloves on, Her father thought the room had became warmer. Elsa however saw it more accurately as being a little less cold. _Ok, breathe. Talk to Papa. He knows better. Breathe._ Above, Elsa felt a strange and deceptive calm while underneath her thoughts were threatening to drown her. What her father said next gave them cause to capsize her clarity of thought.

"Elsa, the hallway outside is practically frosty." He gestured to the hallway, his back to the door, which was now fully open. "Anna noticed it and she was worried about you"

Elsa was almost catatonic with guilt and refused to look to the hallway. _What if Anna had slipped? What if she got ill because of me? How could you?_ Her feet felt bloodlessly numb now. Her father then somewhat sheepishly turned to look at Elsa's side of the door, that only she saw.

_No Papa. Walk away. Stay away. The door. Papa, get away! The Door!_

His eyes fell on the door. A pause ensued as he took in its grooves and damage. He turned to his young. He was trying to hide it, he really was, but for 9, Elsa was clever. Too clever, she often concluded. She could see it. It was fear. _It has me; it has my storm and now its convinced father too…_

"Elsa"

Her legs were useless as her thoughts drowned her. _Get out_. _Stop it. Stop looking at him. Stop it! _The door was silent, as it always became when it was open. But she knew better. She knew what it, what she was capable of.

Shaking like Mad, Elsa scraped together all her untarnished emotion to find her father's eyes through her minds water and lie to him. Tell him it was alright. _No. It's not ok. It can't be, why would I be doing this, hurting people? I just want Anna. Dear Anna. Tell Papa, say the words. Come on._

But her Father recovered first.

"Elsa, you have to wear the gloves from now on. We made them to keep you safe. To keep your sister safe"

Elsa sniffled at mention of Anna. How little, she thought, it showed of her true drowning. The room was now palpably freezing.

"Papa" But the words failed her once, more. She had drowned. Despair consumed her as she thought once more of Anna, of this power, of her danger. _You can't hurt her again. I need her but she needs to stay away. What could you do, if she were near? _Then Elsa had what she felt was a moment of Clarity while her lungs dried to a husk. "The Door. The door made her like this, made her hurt. The door forced her to destroy and preserve such destruction.

All these thoughts existed outwith her father, who know knelt beside her and took her hand.

"Elsa, I want you to repeat after me"

She nodded absently, her mind a furnace of snow. Even through the icy floor and her bloodless legs, still she stared at the door.

"Conceal it. Don't feel it"

"Conceal it. Don't feel it" She repeated.

"Don't let it show"

Her father waited as she stopped. Quickly she became weak. Her ice cold breath became lukewarm. She repeated.

"Don't let it show"

It had been a year since the door had overseen her. A year since that terror of a day. Today surely matched it, like none before it had done. Her father left, retaining the vertical swiftly, and bid her goodnight.

Dejected and heavy with sadness, as well as solitude, she straggled to her bed, only to see a faint line of crimson through the window. _The light, it will not find me_. She shuddered to look towards the now closed door. Her enemy. Her protector. _But was it Annas protector? When she could just turn the knob and defeat it. Or will it defeat me? _Tired and wet from the partly melted snow on her skin, she dropped herself to a peaceless sleep.

_The power of words._


	3. Chapter 3

**So, another chapter. I'm aware no one follows this yet except one but I will write regardless. Interesting as It is to probe Elsas psyche, I don't intend on keeping it all negative. I'm definitely going to keep going with this though. This chapter definitely moves around more, as I hoped. It's also the longest yet. Let's hope I can continue that trend. In case anyone doesn't know yet, Italics are when Elsa is thinking. Any reviews are appreciated, thank you for reading.**

Time swept forward.

Her father's words worked, at least, sometimes. _Conceal it. Don't feel it_. Four years had now occurred since her crime and sentence. It had come time for her to study, to prepare the long process of being a suitable heir apparent. This news, it seems, caused the door to chatter more often. But to prepare, she had to go to the library, and to go to the library…

The day arrived. Elsa had seated herself awkwardly on the floor, opposite her door._ He's coming._ Her father had explained earlier, through an open but uncrossed doorway, that he would walk her to the library. By now, time meant nothing, but she made a passive effort to be as alive as the sun. _Soon, time was going to count_. Then, just as he first had 3 years before, her father opened the door. The meeting of eyes was wordless. _Ok Elsa. Conceal. Papas with you. Breathe. _

Every thought turned to the past, more specifically, the latest quarter of her existence. _Life isn't the word for it._ To when the door had closed. To Anna. But today was what Elsa called a 'good' day. A 'good' day was when Elsa did not weep, at least not for long. _So many tears. _These were the days where she could achieve something like focus. Reading, even writing on occasion. She had made the beginnings of a diary at one point, but lost the will for it due to her bad days. She took the gloves off when she felt brave, but not for long, in case the door stirred up again. But even good days were poisoned by one inevitability, brought on by the infinity of time.

_Boredom_

It was hell, but hers froze over. Another mockery. At first it seemed so awful she'd prefer a malady, a horror, to occur to keep her from being so bored. Anna bored easily, but she was so hyperactive it seldom had time to encroach. Elsa took longer to become bored, but it made it all the worse when she did. With so much 'spare' time, _such a useless word for me_, It was unstoppable. But when masochism was gone, Elsa, for a while, changed her tact and tried to be practical thinking. She knew her rooms dimensions down to the smallest inches. She knew how many seconds it took for her ice to melt after the door became too much, _17 minutes. _The length of her bed. The entirety of features her window decided to show her. The patterns and grooves of the walls.Her mind was both more and less solipsistic. It was entirely and automatically measured by how bored she was. More boredom, more pointless patterns, more innocuous discoveries to be found within the cold roof, the mocking window, the lifeless walls and that damned door. If time is infinite, one will think almost anything. No thought was unthought. No conclusion was never reached. And yet she never got anywhere. That was the worst of it. The feeling of pointlessness.

_Will this be my end? Will I never see her again?_

In those moments, she would often turn to the door expectantly, expecting an answer, a voice of some sort. But she snarled to herself. _ You fool, finding life in the walls. There is only the coldness of time here. _The former moment however, was one of clarity and clear thinking. When Elsa could reach such a peak, even it meant nothing. Because there were always more minutes, more hours, to lose such clarity to the wind of the clock. Or the door would interrupt her memory and cause her hands to shake and her thoughts to take on water again. If the door could cause her thoughts to drown her, then the boredom, which had no graven image, could cause her thoughts to end her breath, a vacuum of a vacuum.

The best days were when the door was silent, entirely. The door never spoke at night. No knocks, no attempts at imitating speech. Silence. It was so surreal, but she'd decided not to ponder it. She had at some point, tried to measure its frequency. How long it lasted when it spoke, how long it stayed silent, the occurrence of quiet days, but these efforts were soon abandoned. Ironically, she never knew she was in a silent day until it was over. She couldn't relish it. _But what is there to relish if the boredom wins out?_ And she lamented that even on such days, there was no guarantee shed be wakeful during daylight. She preferred night anyway, but her sleeping pattern was patternless, so she'd never bothered developing a routine for it.

Birthdays passed with little instance, except that the door positively sang to her once each time.

Later, halfway through her eleventh year, her thoughts gruntled to consider the outside world, something she tried to never do, but was prompted by her fathers more frequent visits. He always stood out in the hallway, with the door open at her insistence. _Anything was better than talking in here. _In spite of her island existence, as she matured with age upon age, Elsa became resigned to the thought that one day; soon, she would go past the door. Resigned because if the thought became prescient, she thought of Anna, and guilt did not rest.

But even Elsa couldn't fight time forever, and she knew her enemy well.

"You will have to come out eventually Elsa. You need to read, to study, to become intelligent so that you can understand and undertake the mind of a ruler"

Her father smiled half embarrassed after saying those words, obviously learned by rote. From her room, Elsa tried to smile back. But her mind grew fearful. _No papa, you don't understand. Nothing will stop this, stop me. _She looked over the door for a second. _It won't, cant, go away. _

Anna hardly appeared in her thoughts now. She sometimes thought she could hear her talking with the door, but as she feared, Anna never opened the door. Never did what she imagined Anna wanted too. _Because of fear_. Sometimes Anna sounded like the door, and if Elsa really tried to, she could hear Anna over the door, hear her speak through it, but she couldn't do it for long, else she would drown. _Anna too, reckless as I am._

She loved Anna, of course. More than anything, over any force and through any door. _But not this one_. And with that thought she cried more greatly than she thought she could. Anna was eternal. _This is for her. This is to save her. You are a river, this is the calming stream_. That was the day before she had to step outside the door.

And every day for 3 years, since she was nine, those words her father had spoke slowed all that was good and all that was evil in her head.

_But it cant kill it_.

She instantly repressed that spasm of thought, almost filled with terror for less than a second.

_Better to slow it than feel it all at once._

All thoughts of the past had come away. Her father waited with admirable patience. Breathing uneasily and with a slight chill in her blood and through her eyes, she took a step forward.

_Nothing is forever._


	4. Chapter 4

**And here I present chapter 4. This was the most difficult chapter to produce thus far, but probably a needed one. I also have actual followers now. That's good.**

**As you already know, this fic is Elsa-centric and I intend to keep it that way. I may have a few character appearances later on but for now im trying to be as minimalist as I can with the number of characters.**

**Reviews are appreciated and thank you for reading.**

Elsa's mind reset itself.

Her breathing was unpredictable as she coordinated herself forward, ever so slowly; leaving her heart beating oftener, though to a pitch she was sure could be heard. _So fast._ She was now inches from the outside and Elsa found her brain two halves a whole. Half was terrified of leaving her room, which for time memorial had housed her and her abilities. The other half relished the thought of leaving. All these conflicting sensations left her with a distinct uneasiness she did not like.

She attempted to focus on her father, waiting graciously at the other side, but found this distracting from what her mind had already decided to do. Unconsciously without will, she turned her face right to peer at the door. _The out-side._ She was sure the current breath was her final. She stood aghast but silent. _Much like the door. But why?_ Her confusion was ever-present. _Of course, it's always silent when it's open but…_ Her mind was lost. Surely seeing her, the object of the doors existence, crossing its border, would rile it to speak. Surely silence was the last thing on its mind. But silent it was and remained.

_Nothing_

The temperature between the two spaces was harder to discern with each second passed. It refused to stay fixed despite the airflow, which was now just strong enough to be felt.

Elsa was staring at the world's side of the door. Wondering why its voice was gone. After considering this for what felt like minutes, Elsa turned her mind to its features. It wasn't just quieter…it was…c_leaner. Paint in the right places, its bright blue. _She briefly peered to the handle. _But the handle. It's worn. _Her thoughts coalesced, taking in and processing this new information, as her father watched on.

Roughly 15 seconds had passed since her first step, but even to Elsa, for whom time meant nothing, it had went slower.

Suddenly she thought she could feel a conclusion; _the door only talks to me._ _But it lies_. She thought again to the things the door had told her, _Or was it Anna, even that's becoming a challenge. _Of how she was guiltless. Of how she was no more wrong than the world in general.

_Liar. If so why am I here, why are you there? Why are you closed?_

She was not to be fooled. They feared her, all of them. Because of it, because the door made them fear. But how so when this side was so young, so bright?

As she took another step, and fell into the world, she stunningly felt calm, in a second. Because she was terrified of the door. Of what it told her, of what it held back. _The cold, it's even in the air. _Were she guiltless, she would leave it oh so sternly. But on this side, she concluded, ignorance is better than fear._ And fear is better than death by my hands. _

This doublethink was almost dangerous, but she couldn't help but find the Brightside harmless. The door, after all, only existed as openly as she did.

_It's so warm_

She looked up to her Father, who had observed the scene with no candour, but gentleness, as he was proud to do. Now fully outside, he reached behind her and closed the door. It closed with a distinct click, obviously only audible from one side.

She took his hand and they began to walk, heading for the library.

(Click)

Elsa was muddled, and briefly anxious. _Had it clicked again? No, not possible._

The click indeed repeated, quieter this time.

_Somethings wrong. Why cant he hear it? _Looking again to her Father, he seemed unchallenged. _He cant. He really cant. _

Her wits were not useless. She analysed internally. What would cause it to repeat? She calmed her breathing as much as possible, growing anxious and unsteady in legwork. It repeated yet again, but this time, it was hardly perceptible. Elsa even wondered if she had actually heard it. But she had. _Is it the door, keeping an eye on me_? _Have I really been inside so long?_

But the clicking did not repeat. Would not repeat. She concluded the sound of four moving feet had defeated it, whatever the source.

_But nothing defeats the door…except Anna._ She vibrantly remembered, to a time where there was time. Anna clicked her tongue. She started to shake and violently as she tried with one hand linked to her father; her hand retreated near her chest. If she was near, Elsa mustn't be a threat. But this flash of memory did little. She knew enough of Anna, _or did_, to know that clicking her tongue wouldn't be enough. If she had known of Elsas current location, she would surely run there at full speed. Elsa prayed her sister would remain ignorant of such knowledge, else nothing was impossible.

Finally, after a time Elsa genuinely couldn't place, they arrived. Her thoughts instantly shifted to a new epoch, or was it a dormant one? The library. _Towers of knowledge. More than most would, even can know in one life. And in one place, for me, it's here. It's safe._ Her father mumbled instructions about familiarising herself with her surroundings and then promptly left. Elsa did not even notice. She was transfixed to the books. Rows that seemed near endlessly filled with knowledge. Blues, reds, greens, yellows. She did love Yellow, her favourite colour. And the smell. _The smell of comfort._ Without conscious thought, she apprehended a book to read and sat down at a desk that had clearly been placed there with her in mind, she bothered to notice.

Then, looking upwards, she saw it. It was working forward. Eternal and moving. Circular, with hard black outlines for numbers. Her eyes bore like pins into it. In her flurry, she hadn't heard it.

(Click)


	5. Chapter 5

**My apologies for not meeting the usual update time. Things have been hectic and I'm sorry to say will continue to be like this until Sunday. So it is unlikely there will be any update until Monday as my weekend is choked with schedule. I'm sorry, dear reader. To partly make up for it, here is my longest chapter thus far.**

**Thank you for reading.**

The hands and face looked back at her, nearly coldly still.

(click) (tick) (_Tock?)_

Elsa played with the sound in her mind for a moment, trying to change it. But this soon gave her little relief from the ticking. She remembered an echo of a memory involving clocks. Something to do with the hand that counted seconds. A recent development. It did not take her long to conclude it was what caused the ticking.

She placed the book down, to control her worry. Each tick felt like a progression, as if a pin was being poked through velvet. Elsa indeed did have her own clock, but it was older in design, merely having the hands for minutes and hours. She briefly tempered how inaccurate it must be by now, as she never bothered to check it. _What was the point?_ What really worried Elsa was that the ticking was constant. She could feel her very brain shiver. Her ears were already sick of it. And the floodgates were at risk. The floodgates of her consciousness. She did everything she could to take her mind off the sound. Squirming in the wooden chair, she tried to read the book, but the clock did not wish it, and persisted in keeping her adrift in this sea. Her efforts to block out the sound only made it seem heavier.

But there was another danger that Elsa's mind refused to acknowledge. If her mind wandered for too long, her thoughts would uncover that which can release the floodgates, and then nothing in here would be safe. _This is a safe place. _She checked her heart rate. It was outpacing the clock, almost twice over. _Not good. Breathe._

But breathing was proving ineffectual and the library got colder. The colour her face had garnished was ironically melting away, as this calamity only grew. _Of all things, its time that's going to ruin this. No doors, no ice, but time! _In her dismay, she anxiously picked up the clock, fumbling with the parts to see what could make the ticking stop. It was getting louder. She knew. It was piercing a whole in her mental fabric. Elsa was just on the ball enough to make this conclusion as she handled the clock with little care. Time was against her. _Time is trying to kill me, make me a beast of myself. _She was now in a struggle, a battle. And she doubted it would matter who prevailed. But her better self was holding reins for now. But the ticking produced such a sharp noise. In her anguish, she imaged scissor cutting through her brains tissue, snapping away at her defences. It was inhuman, this pain. _The worst part is, it isn't even Real pain…_

Elsa held the clock still for a moment, this thought trumping her current efforts. She wasn't in any pain. But if this is so, why this terror? Why this fear?

But the ticking was verging on full attack now. She could hear nothing; even her beating heart seemed silenced. _But I'm still alive…How could I fail here, how could I ever think of controlling it outside? Even on a good day…no…no it won't happen here, this place is too full of life._

She knew there was no escape at all, as to run to her room was to simply suffer 'real' pain. The clock was still going, despite Elsas mental plea for the sound to dissipate. The scissor edged closer, her hands were getting colder; the whole room was. A torch whose shadows danced just outside the entrance suddenly went out. The pages of the book began to flutter.

_Its starting _

She remembered her fathers words. Her hands shook. Despite his strictness over it, she had taken off her gloves to better handle her hand while selecting a book. But she was so dazed and stunned by this fetid and new threat that she never thought to put them on. Poor Elsa was only a child. Children are fleeting by definition. But such thoughts were no comfort here. _Not in this moment, in this panic, I am mature_.

The twelve year old soon tired of handling the clock, her head throbbing with each tick. She forgot to breath, and soon, she barely surmised, she was going to pass out.

_At least I won't drown. _

It was a small comfort, but Elsa needed such comforts. She briefly allowed her self to forget, being unaware of anything. Her mind was so addled as to make her struggle even to stand if she needed to stand. But the scissors were getting closer. Each second, another line of defence was lost. She felt a fool for remembering it, for restarting the panic. But then, to her infinite shame, she remembered that it had never stopped. She was now even lying to herself. _You're lost. Once that's done, nothing can undo it. Surrender. _Elsa was sure it was over. She could hardly support herself upright. The desk looked so safe and sturdy. The clock was strong as ever.

The temperature instantly halted as it dropped.

_What now…_

Quite unexpectedly, the ticking clock, the mental axe, stopped. Confused, Elsa looked to her hands. In her crazed exhaustion, she had held the clock, as if in some unconscious and primal last ditch effort to silence its incessant noise. But what she did not expect was to realise that she had actually done so.

Turning the clock face towards her, she saw its numerals and hands blotted outwards, almost breaking the cylinder glass. The white background was barely discernible. The hairspring was severed.

She had frozen the clock solid.

Frightened like a helpless animal, Elsa surged backward, throwing the clock away and crawling speedily from her chair, until her toiled body of nerves struck a bookcase behind her. Not satisfied, she tried to keep moving.

_But it's so tiring. So long. _

For a minute she sat, unsteadily still, gathering much needed air. She realised for the first time just how much time had really passed. Hardly any at all.

Her body shook violently, her mind ahead of it. _That IS different. _She nonetheless hyperventilated. Her breathed had cooled to an unnatural low. She could see it, but she, even she, could tell this room was warm. Her mind turned to observe the room around her. There was, because of her, a definite draft. But it was starting to calm her. She could tell she was close to tears but violently willed herself to breathe, to keep up the barricades. The rupturous world around her mind began to steady in her eyes. She was losing the sensation of drifting in water. As if the library had seen her horror and extended a hand through its infinite pages. A hand worth holding.

_The door is not here. It will not hurt you. The books are harmless, but their knowledge, powerful. Dangerous._

She allowed a tear to fall. _Otherwise ill drown with thought. Such a waterlogged head of mine. _She sniffled but felt almost calmed, almost still. She took her hand and raised it to her eyes, a daily gesture. They always shook somewhat. But now, they only shook a tiny bit. She struggled to see it. _But it is there. _That thought unsettled her considerably. But to look upon the books, as if on another world, was cure enough. She was safe here. Safely lost. If running couldn't be done, here she would stay. The room began to cool comfortably around her.

Her mind however dragged itself to think of her room. It took her much pain, but finally, for the first since entering the library, she realised how plain her room was. It won't do. This uncertainty creeped through her blanket thought pattern. The tears had not rested, they were nestling themselves to her thoughts. _No…I was safe. I was calm, will these thoughts not just stop?Then I'll just freeze them all. Freeze them solid, books turning to blocks. _She Stopped herself, hating the anger in her, and continued to weep, not caring that her tears froze on the carpet. She felt defeated again. Yes, there was a moment where the books comforted her from all that cold, all that fear, but her mind couldn't help it. She had to be like that, otherwise why would the door have imprisoned her? _And to think it had extended a hand. You imbecile. There was no hand, just you. The eternal enemy_.

She remembered being taught to fear enemies, but more importantly to understand them. Then you fought them. No doubt her dear Papa exaggerated somewhat, but the message was clear. No war is simple, no battle straightforward.

She looked to her hands then ahead to the clock on the floor behind the desk. _But how do you win a war when the enemy is inside your own head? _

That thought gave her pause and she breathed quickly, taking it in. If she couldn't win, she had to lose. There was no third option. Either she would 'control' it, or else be consumed with its frosty touch. But these were all ways of saying she was damaged, unnatural, in need of repair. She had been born broken. Why else would she hurt her sister? _Probably damaged her with me. _Only bad people did such acts. And she was bad, because if she was good, then the world wasn't worth living in. That was her foothold.

_We can't all be good, there has to be the bad, the evil, or what's all the good for? _

She sobbed again as, for a moment, she allowed the still world to scream into her. Out of respect for the works around her, she didn't dare sob loudly. But all the while, she wanted to scream. To freeze everything. To freeze herself to this spot and starve. For herself. For Anna. But she didn't. She couldn't. _I don't know how, that's the pathetic part._

Elsa had wrestled with these thoughts for longer than she believed. Her exhaustion had struck her down once more, but this time from no door. Just time. You can't fight time. She began to daze away, the warmth of books being her quilt. As she did so, she saw a figure with purple adorned on them enter the library, but she couldn't take the necessary head crane to see who it might be. In the next moment she was asleep, frightened and shaky, but, and this was new, warm. The world collapsed to black, the air of the ancients holding the floodgates for now.

_Conceal it._


	6. Chapter 6

**A thousand apologies, my dear readers. It has been a calamitous few days. I will still be posting irregularly but I can promise it will be nowhere near six days. My thanks to my friend Iona for her advice on portraying Elsa. I know where I am taking this story now and I know how it's going to end. But I won't tell you how long away that is, else what's the point?**

**Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated.**

Grief is the crudest form of tragedy.

These words riled Elsa from an unexpected but appreciated sleep. She rose her head from her desk, taking in its details. She had it moved to her room when she was refused the removal of the library clocks. The ticking had driven her mad with fright. She had kept up a stoic attendance to the library, liberating books as she went, but, crass and callous as it felt to do, she didn't go back after her parents died. _That was a long time ago. _The table was wooden, and intensely dark. The water it had soaked in over the years from her…ability, was worthy to sail upon.

_But the tears…_

This caused her to remember too quickly what her dream was about. It was her parents. Elsa instinctively removed her hands from the desk. It had absorbed so much boredom, because boredom could be kept out. But pain, pain was harder to manage. It had been nearly three years since the event. She could recall all too vividly and yet all too instinctively her reaction to the news.

It was brought by Kai, and she mumbled a barely mustered apology to him as she slammed the door, hardly opened already. She wept instantly. No, she cried, she wailed. Inconsolable wasn't near the word. Misery, for days subsequent, was not an event, it was a state of being. She felt so cold. So cold her bones should snap. She shrivelled onto the floor, unable to stop her coldness from licking upwards through every conceivable surface of the walls. She looked to the door, and she felt something indescribable. She was drowning, like before, but she was rocking and bobbing, as if at sea. It didn't help her state of mind. Her parents must have known that feeling. The awful feeling of your own head filling with water. She knew it well, all so familiar. Her tears began to dry, for a little while. She didn't dare touch her face.

_This is what the water took from me._

She had thrown her desk across her room in grief-borne despair, the worst emotion of all. As it land the ice pumped, like blood from a black heart, through every conceivable hole the desk possessed. She screamed at the door.

"Nothing to say? No words of mockery? COWARD!"

She placed her hands forcefully on its bare surface, letting the ice conquer it all. But it was not enough. She directed a blast to all the walls, anything to make the grief stop. It took on violent growth, going everywhere. The window cracked, as had Elsa. She crumpled onto the floor. She wept heavily for a second time. She turned on her back, looking upward, pondering the divine in a gasp for solace.

She had been taught of heaven, of where our morals came from, but Elsa had always thought this skewed in her case. She, after all, must be one of the bad ones. _Mama had told me the bad people burned. If im one of them, I don't need to burn. I need to freeze. _She had concluded long ago that her punishment in that other place was yet to be found. It was likely a place no soul could avoid her. But she pushed those thoughts away. This wasn't about her.

Icy tears congregated on the floor. She wept a new round of tears convulsively, the very walls themselves seeming to shiver. The door was silent through all of this. It was deathly. If her hands hadn't been so busy shaking, she was sure it would have formed a blade. But her body trickled forward in function.

Then came the funeral. It was the first day since the news that Elsa felt strong enough to leave her room. She remembered the terror at passing the door, unsure what was worse, its speech or its silence. Then the ticking on the way outside. It was so loud, it barely stopped until she was well away from her part of the palace. She saw Anna, and Elsa must have frozen her blood to not shiver and shake at just the site. There was another feeling she couldn't deny; Guilt. Still, Anna took her mind off her parents, for the moment. It was so windy. She was sure she had been the cause, but it died down. In that moment she stopped sobbing inside. She couldn't. Not anymore. Her mind went blank. Seeing Anna sent her mind over the top. Her brain panicked and suddenly she stopped feeling. She was near catatonic. She strolled fitfully back to her room, ahead of Anna. She closed the door behind her back and slumped upon it. She was sure she heard Anna, speaking to her. She decided to listen, so close passing out from resignation.

Anna spoke, with admirable strength, through the door. The door spoke in unison, but Elsa could tell them apart. The first time she ever could.

_To think THIS was all it took._

She'd given up. Anna wouldn't open the door. Anna wept herself as she strolled away. All Elsa felt was the guilt of the earth infecting her soul. She passed out, having not eaten or drank in four days. She was so cold it hurt. She never got cold. But this, it was unnatural, even in the darkest nights at the bottom of the most shadowed waters.

After that day, the door was silent.

Elsa returned to the present from her thought tunnel. She realised that without her parents she hardly knew anything except how to be a queen. If she was a woman, if she was anything, she hadn't learned it. She had been a child once, but those days are gone.

Soon, though, soon she'd know. The door barely drew breath of it right this second but she knew. The day she truly could fall. _Grit your teeth, breath, conceal. Don't let them in, don't let them know. Just one day._

Even rid of all clocks, even with the door silent, it was time which would kill her. The worst part was the door muttered more and more as the day approached, causing her to gasp and pace constantly sick with worry.

She had thirteen years of days but the worst day was directly ahead.

She couldn't study and stood up from her desk. Looking to her hands, the motion seemed perpetual. Resignation was fast being overtaken by fear.

That day, her coronation, was tomorrow now. She remembered what must have been weeks before, when the door still sat in silence. The same was untrue of the walls. She heard tables moving, feet pattering from place to place. She even heard Anna.

They were preparing.

And then on that day, having slept near conscious, she heard Kai through the door. Then the door gave her what must have been a premonition, the first it had spoken since her parents died. A terrifying, inhuman warning.

_It's starting._


	7. Chapter 7

**See? It wasn't 6 days. It was 5! Yes not much better. It will likely be on this basis for the rest of this story, but I guarantee it to be once or twice weekly. This is now the longest chapter ive written. I finally entered the films narrative. Ive tried to avoid getting too into it, because you've probably already read fics dealing with the film. Still, Enjoy the chapter, reviews are welcome and thank you for reading. **

_Such power_

Like a flame, it spread slowly, then consumed the land.

Elsa to this moment could not be quite sure how long it had been, but she was filled with feelings unfamiliar. Her body was cold straight to the heart, to her soul.

_But my mind is on fire. My mind __**is**__ fire._

The bereft, sleepy landscape whistled gently to her, placed atop her balcony. Until now her thoughts had been unguided and impulsive. But now that she had finished running and with her rush of blood calming, she pondered to the chronology of the days events. _Or was it yesterday?_

…

The day progressed with as much fear as she had expected. Unlike most days, she was ready this time. She had picked into her body and produced fresh armour for the days rigour. The coronation was exhausting to a deadly degree. Her thoughts swirling, she could swear they saw it, Ice on gold..._Well they did, eventually. _

…

She gasped, fumbling. She forced herself back into recall, euphoria being logics worst ally as her mind burned anew with activity, conjuring details. The knowledge she could choose to forget had left her, by now.

…

The door was unnaturally loud as she dressed. It was interlinked with all manner of activity outside its domain. She took an alien sense of effort to keep it from harming her. It seemed to have worked, for starters.

The ceremony itself, when it finally came, was crowded. Men and Women in military and Royal Paraphernalia from across the world painted the room. She saw Anna to her left as hymns were sung. For the first time, she noticed just how much her little sister had grown. It scared Elsa. Not because she wasn't proud, but because of the fact it did surprise her at all.

Her mind cracked to attention, unwilling to let it wonder, Elsa stood, a statue.

_So many people._

To Anna, 40 people were no fearful amount. Indeed the thought excited her, to meet so many new people. But to Elsa, it was as if she stood upon Olympus itself, the eyes of man and God observing her.

_No. Don't think like that. Calm calm calm. Come on now. Good girl_

Her defences did not fall. She was resolute, sheer force of will getting her this far. The crown was placed on her head, daintily. Mentally checking it off her list, she turned her attention to the sceptre and…_she panicked silently_

There had been a technicality, something she couldn't avoid. _What was it? _Whether Elsa had forgotten out of wanting to or out of genuine loss of memory, she would never know. She remembered nonetheless, making sure not to shudder as she did.

_The Gloves_

Elsa decided to go against conscious and let her instinct decide what to do. It didn't work.

"Your Majesty, The gloves"

It took great pains to keep herself from arguing. A medieval, primeval part of her mind protested against it all. But before she could think it through, her hand outstretched. Automaticity took over and her right hand began to pull fabric from the left, finger by delicate finger. On the third pull, the whole thing suddenly came off and she quickly pulled the other off with less care, before panic could fester to any part of her body. Her body was working against her with every thought.

She took a visible breath as both gloves were removed. She glanced at them mournfully. Then, with no premonition, the ticking or clicking, she could never decide which, restarted.

If her mind could, it would have left her skull and ran. Her mind became heavy and with each new tick her hands seemed to rupture and lose steadiness.

_I was wrong. My mind is working against my body. No battle is simple is it? Anything but my hands. Take my mind, my joy, but not my hands._

She pleaded internally with an inner fear she had never fully conquered as she picked up the needless objects, her hands now spasmodically shaking. _Everything feels so heavy. It's getting louder. _

It was. To make her misery total, she felt for the first time just how painful her back was from her posture.

She turned around and became unhinged, focusing entirely on the ticking, at great mental cost.

_Focus on it. It will take one moment. Just one. _

But as her eyes reached the crowd, the ticking, for the first time, actually became faster. It was a triumph of fear. She was now in certain panic. Her hands began to actually throb in unsteadiness. Even Elsa was not sure what was coming next. But her internal question was answered with horrific instance as her hand flashed cold. Elsa did not have a minute.

She had seconds.

She strained to hear the words of the minister, realising it was her key to freedom from this moment, this nexus of terror and pain.

Two or three seconds had passed.

The ice crawled to meet the golden objects and gradually but unimpededly spread. She could listen to her heartbeat, the minister, focus on the wall ahead of her or keep her hands still; she could not do all 4 at once. In a shine of desperation, she thought of Anna, much as one thinks of what they most adore when they are sure their downfall is imminent.

In a thought pattern she couldn't recreate again at will, she thought of Anna, of just how much she truly loved her, how much she truly did care.

Five seconds past.

The ticking was all her fevered brain could hear now. Her body felt cold. Ice had most definitely touched gold now. There could be no room to think otherwise.

_I have to run. No choice or chance._

She kept thinking of Anna in an unending effort to keep still. And with that, she suddenly became aware of a great pain in her chest.

_Breath _

She took a deep, lung and body filling breath, holding it for as long as her nervous body could afford to. The ticking occurred with fractionally less intensity. She could see clearly again.

But her hands had not felt such breath.

She heard the Minister nearly finishing. The ticking returned to its previous intensity.

Seven or eight seconds had passed.

Elsa was now beginning to drown.

The objects were half frozen, half free. Without any warning she swung right and practically threw the objects back onto the cushions. Her nerves were that of a childs.

_They must know, they must._

But she lunged her gloves onto her hands, the crowd clapped and the ticking slowly began to dissipate. She was centuries from ok, but she had not shattered. She had not drowned. She had concealed. She had felt it.

_The worst had passed_.

But as things transpired, it became quite clear the worst and best were still in waiting. She was unaware at the time that her small victory was just that; small.

Events moved to the ballroom, where things were to rumble and spike in ways only the door could understand. The guests were unusually nice, but thankfully painless to interact with. She had been trained well in the art of 'polite' conversation.

_Thank you, Papa. _

Despite some confusion over handshakes (Elsa was left handed), pleasantries were dispersed with little harm. But Elsa was only slightly relaxed. She was still tense. Her conscious fear had settled for now, thanks in part to the removal of all clocks from the ballroom but she was disgruntled to find it had been replaced in spirit. She hadn't noticed all that much how fearful she was approaching doorways and entrances until today. It had been a queer thing to discover when she noticed her anxiety grow walking through doorways of various kinds earlier in the day.

Her eyes would water and her face would start to itch. She soon figured out her anxiety was deceptive too. It never left her. Walking through doors, she felt like she was harbouring a knife in her chest. Upon walking through the door, an invisible hand would twist the blade, but leave it in. The sudden fear was new to Elsa, but she struggle to understand why it happened in the absence of any panic. There was no build-up, just a sudden, immediate discomfort that would reach a pitch and then die down, in the space of seconds. Like a single wave of water, it left her not wanting, but expecting, more.

…

She propped herself on the balconies railing for sheer balance as her memory tried to protect her from the next events. Her legs were deemed unnecessary as her mind tried to cope with what she next remembered. The flames in her head became ravenous and in a moment of memory she frantically skipped over all detail, as if trying to chase her own recollection out of terror.

She remembered Hans, those eyes she did not trust. And Anna, of course. They met; her glove came off, _My left hand, of course, _the instant panic, Annas outburst, _the flail of the wrong damn hand. _All these memories became one superevent in Elsas mind that she could only pierce the skin of and she didn't even dare try to analyse them further, not wanting to jeopardise her current state of mind.

Then she ran. The fountain. _The people_. She remembered her feet turning solid. The fjord. She stood upon it and it complied, freezing before her. Then she still ran, running far more than she should have. The panic died. Her thought moved faster, but with less clarity. Then exhilaration set in, making Elsa feel more different from herself than she had ever attempted.

She struggled to piece together how she came to feel so…good. But her happiness was fanatical, bordering on ignorant. It had set in very speedily, mere minutes. The cold would not blemish her. The cold was her friend. As she ran through ice and snow, it felt so new. Her hands were not swords. They were conduits.

_Ive never felt like this before. This…energy. Such strength in my hands. It doesn't…make sense._

But all logic left her completely upon reaching the mountain. Somehow, she knew what she had to do. She hadn't the faintest idea why she felt like this. Leftover fear converted to energy, a mad loss of sanity, she really wasn't sure. But her liberation was from how little she paid it mind.

She began constructing her grand palace, feeling the high of the escape earlier fill her body into pleasant control. She would have been more amazed by her work were she not so driven to finish it, dually focused and feeling alive.

_All good things, coming at once in a storm from my breath._

She looked to her floor of magnificent ice, unable to even think of stopping her beaming smile. Her heart was going so fast. She really had never felt this alive before. Her control. Her power was making her a slave to nothing.

_Don't let it go. No. I feel like a god. Im unstoppable. No doors, no clocks, no time, no fear. Let it rise!_

With that she raised her structure and by that point, Elsa felt so powerful, she couldn't quite remember how the rest feel into place. It all felt just effortless. She was her own master. Her soul had woken from 13 years of chains.

The ice dress was to surround herself with that cold feeling, the feeling that ice and snow were her fuel, it may have been impractical, but Elsa did not care. She was home. Every howl of wind was making her tingle with delight and pure energy.

…

_And now, im here. _

She looked to the sun, not rejecting it. Her confidence still stood. As long as she stood, so too would this palace. She thought of Anna for the first time of what Elsa realised was the next morning. She had tried not to, but her self-deception was waning, even amongst the passing ecstasy and euphoria she felt in her system. They were running slightly behind her now, and her true, _or is it my false, _mind began to assert itself, though weakly.

She remembered her eyes just before she crossed the fjord, that's when the fear had started to go. Annas eyes told so much. Worry, fear…concern.

_It was understanding. That's what I saw. That's what she felt. She didn't know _

_In thirteen years she never opened the door. She knocked, she spoke but she never took the initiative. _

With a calming breath, Elsa concluded; _Why would she start now_?

Her thoughts were unclear but she felt refreshed, her weary muscles more prepared after her moments rest for rememberance, or hours, she had the luxury of not knowing. But a strange false clarity still resided in her, amongst all the positive feelings, it was there.

She shook her head and smiled. Turning around, she swung her cape around her side, air alone closing the door behind her. In that moment, she granted herself a feeling of power again. The door bent to her will and hers alone. It had no voice.

She was full of uncertainty, but she decided to enjoy this heaven while it lasted.

_Silence. The song of the sky. _She smiled once more, peacefully.

_Let me rise_

**Authors notes:**

**If you feel so inclined, listen to Florence + The Machine: Leave my Body. I thought it fit this chapter perfectly.**

**Hope you liked the change in tone for some of it. Let see what happens next, shall we?**


	8. Chapter 8

**In between drunkenness and newfound responsibilities, this fic slipped through the cracks in my schedule. I had trouble finding time to muse over this chapter, let alone write it, due partly to those reasons which I hope accounts for the echo of my absence. For that I ask for forgiveness. While I am technically meeting my deadline of once a week, I still feel a bit rubbish about it being this long. I am sorry.**

**But don't fret. Here is the chapter. Reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading and enjoy.**

Elsas fortunes had flipped, akin to a coin.

Quite different surroundings had encompassed her tangled wrists. Concussed and groggy, the last few hours, a time period she was unsure about, were lost to her. But she knew the salient details.

_Anna came to help me…I turned her away, _Elsa allowed a touch of guilt to brim to the surface, _Then I was attacked. Then…_

Elsa was unsure of the events that followed, but knew they were sending her only guilt. She pondered briefly as to whether she had forgotten or was simply willing herself to forget. For the first time, out of repression, she allowed herself to take in her surroundings. It was a dungeon, clearly, and the room seemed specially furnished, as if for a specific kind of prisoner. She looked to implements on her hands. It mercilessly dawned on Elsa that this place was in fact built 'for' her.

She dropped to her knees, momentarily tired, but could not find it in her depths to cry. But what she did feel was anger. A feverish kind of anger. The kind that made the good injure and the evil kill. On top of this flurry, the conversation with Hans had left her no better. The news of her sisters lack of whereabouts and her own witnessing of the storm she had brewed made her uneasy and paranoid; her stormy memory serving only to agitate her warming rage.

Semblance of balance returned, she thought of this place, this sickly palace, coarsened by age and isolation from the outside world. She thought of her parents. Of how at just nine years age, twelve years past, she had deduced her fathers fear in his eyes. But to see her power so blatantly restrained here, at least in intent, made Elsa feel sick and her anger swiftly turned to upset. But it would not last, for her eyes burned with tears but she felt no drowning water, no door chatter and the ticking was not to be heard. Sick she would be, were her stomach not frozen along with its contents.

She forced herself to think of her next action, stubbornly refusing to let her guilt slow her down. She remarked mentally how her previous isolation was out of choice, but even this assumption was uneven, partly because Elsa herself took it as an 'assumption'.

_Somehow to be held here, my hands restrained, feels different. A room anywhere can be useful, but if you cannot leave it, it loses all charm and all wonder. Then again, where is the charm here? In fact, besides books, whence cometh wonder?_

It would not do.

Her mind had settled to one conclusion: Escape.

She looked out the window once again, seeing before her all that she had done. Her anger drew her towards it, but anger at what she wasn't certain. In all other facets Elsa still felt weak, and even in rage struggled to motivate herself. To see her storm comforted her but she knew it was out of some kind of fatalism she hadn't met yet.

Peering down at her 'hands' she willed the metal to become brittle from her ice. But it wasn't having the desired mark. Deciding to use her anger rather than simply walk through it, Elsa willed the unnatural energy through her fingers, even though she was sure they no longer existed. She could not feel them. But she made it persist. Persist it did. She thought of the door, who knew better Elsas wrath than anyone. _Or anything…_

When she made the obvious leap towards the realisation the entire winter was her wrath, Elsa only grew tougher. She felt temporarily selfish.

_They called me a witch? A monster? They haven't seen me. I could make this all so much worse. Because im one of the bad ones. Yes, I am. But I will stop this. And then, I will run. And this time, I wont leave a chance for chase._

The restraints were very weak now. It consumed Elsas vision and thoughts so densely she barely registered the ticking had started again. She took no thought towards 'who' she was addressing in her mental monologue. But the door could hear them. She knew it could. And she felt proud, in a way.

All her life, she had waited for Anna to open the door, to liberate Elsa and bring her back to the heavier world of talking, playing, dancing and working.

_Now im done waiting. _

Her restraints fell, she heard the door knock, though which one she was unsure.

_I will find Anna. I will ensure she is safe. And then I will run._

Elsas rage and anger had softened, but it had been dredged out by a dogmatic outlook. Her thoughts singular. She had nothing but contempt for the building around her, the building whose window she was about to leave.

Her mission seemed reckless and Elsa honestly had no means of deciphering what exactly was going to happen. All thoughts rested on Anna and her own winter. She knew what must be done.

Elsa ran for what felt like only seconds onto what she could tell was the fjord. Indecision was quick to catch her and her rage that had driven her out here seemed unjustly absent. But her will was iron-clad.

The ticking had grown stronger, and suddenly Elsa felt absurdly weak. She knew with a pathetic breath what came next. Surrounded by her wind and by now definitely lost to the fog of the snow, she was unsure where she was and felt helpless. She had imaged finding Anna as a triumph of the spirit. She had failed to perceive exactly what she was to do.

Ticking away, Elsa struggled to stand. She looked around hopelessly, hoping Anna would have returned. She knew it was illogical.

_You never were good at loving her were you? You didn't plan, you didn't talk, you just froze yourself. And now people will die. ANNA WILL DIE! Of cold. You weren't even brave enough to stick the dagger in yourself. To do it quickly._

Elsas mind took on water abruptly and she was resigned to her spot with a laboured thud on the ice, the wind removing all hopes of hearing. Tired, having gone foodless for 2 days, ticking in her ears, her very mind, her brain taking on water again, she held onto one thimble of hope. She rebelled in a way she never knew she could given the circumstances. What this feeling was, Elsa intuited she would never define to anyone, least of all herself. It resembled a fitful kind of hope.

_No. No no no. I will protect Anna._

The wind seemed to grow stronger, wishing to propel Elsa forward. She obliged.

_I will find her, then I will end this winter._

Her hands rubbed tensely over her throat, shaking with enforced vigour.

_The only way I know I can._

Elsas thoughts of a future no longer existed. She moved by force of will alone. The ticking stopped.

_Time is now my friend._


	9. Chapter 9

**Happy first Anniversary of Frozen, to which I owe a good deal.**

**I have been plagued in the process of writing this, of least being a skin disease I wasn't aware of until last week that has essentially prevented me from writing this story as long as it could for mostly physical reasons. I will only say it causes extreme skin irritation and is easily spread, so I could not work in college, where I upload my chapters. I have treated it of course, but it will take time. Time that you fine people shouldn't have to sit through.**

**This chapter was painful to write. And recent reviews have made me aware of my own limitations. Nonetheless I write this story for you, dear reader, but above else, for me. Because I owe you as much and I owe myself the experience. I hope the words here do not disappoint. Though im confident if they did, you would have me know.**

**Thank you for reading, reviews are appreciated, I hope you enjoy.**

_Those eyes, they hold a gravity ive yet to feel from anyone, except perhaps the door._

Elsa looked at Hans with an immediate distrust and fear, two feelings that for some reason, her mind could not reconcile.

Elsa was worried, in a way she had never quite been before. She felt foolish, for having ran out onto this damned fjord with only a vague understanding of her mission. Her determination had evaporated just as quickly as it had spurned her from her prison. But here lay her true prison, separated from Anna, her powers in full effect, ravaging Arendelle, with no way to stop it. She had resolved to escape by any earthly means she had. Upon seeing Hans, she immediately pushed herself away, to protect herself. But her mind was aflame with anxiety. In the rush of emotion, she turned away.

"Just take care of my sister"

Her words felt too rushed. She had no reason to trust Hans. And yet, she could not even trust herself. _If you could, this winter would thaw_. Elsa thus was scared of herself. She was willing to trust a man she knew nothing of. _Has it gotten so bad?_

The wind around them was powerful and within it, so much of her soul resided. Blind panic wouldn't cover it. But then neither would simple fear.

_Guilt. If anything went wrong, its because of you. Listening to doors, windows, ticking clocks. Did you ever listen to her? To yourself?_

She returned what was left of her conscious attention to Hans. His expression grew contorted.

"Your Sister?"

The wind seared at the sound. Uncertainty was the last thing Elsa needed. And yet here it was.

And then, as Hans spoke, Elsas mind became little more than a machine, refusing to obey an order. _No, Anna is safe, I would never…_

"Your sister is dead. Because of you"

Elsa was beyond volition. Her body became a pile of rubble. Her mind was dead. No truth was worse. Her mind did not even flood. Did not even build. It froze. Grief had paralysed her. There was no future.

_I killed Anna._

As her knees gave out, the wind suddenly disappeared. It did not die away or whistle towards the mountains, it vanished as if from the crack of a whip. With a bit of intuition, Hans could well have noted that what he saw was Elsas brain, in macro. But Hans cared little for Elsa.

And Elsa concurred with him.

She did not feel alive, or even physical. She only felt despair. Grief. As if she were in a world of her own, with death and all his friends watching her. Only her hands could work, shaking so violently. She let them.

_No concealing. No feeling. You are death. The bad one. _

She felt sure there was ice behind her eyes. In her nails, at the tip of her toes. Spreading all around her body. Her mind was so quick to shut off that she couldn't tell if she was alive or dead. Whenever conscious thought reared its eyes to her, she resisted it unflinchingly quickly. Looking to the ice she knelt upon, she thought that if she could only smack her head hard enough, if she could only wait a little longer, her body could freeze itself.

More than anything, Elsa wished for death. But she did not have the energy. She hated herself for thinking of rest. Of sleep. _Of peace._

_Only wait. Time will take you. _

She thought she could hear the scrape of metal, but paid it no mind. She was resolutely refusing to acknowledge her surroundings. Because absent of Anna, the great warmth of Elsas life, it all seemed to mock her.

She did eventually notice Hans. The way he stood. She did not take long to accept it.

The door was talking to her, through the silence. She could tell it was angry, and scared. Because it needed her. Without Elsa, the door was just a door. And doors could be closed and locked. But people...

Elsa had always thought of herself as a locked door if she ever thought of herself at all. To protect others, she was locked, never to be opened. And she had accepted it. She even embraced it, because how could she conclude otherwise?

Back then, at least, Anna was merely hurt. Elsa wondered if she could speak back to the door. Her door.

_It doesn't make sense. It isn't here._

But it was. In spirit, it had decided to meet her. To see her downfall finished. It had lived with her. Now it was here, for it was going to die with her.

Wood, Ice, Steel. The material mattered little. All were the same; all of them locked away something. Wood had severed her connection to the world. Ice not only destroyed but preserved everything that knew its wrath from her hand.

_To think Anna still has her heart…frozen in time…_

And steel. Steel pierced wood, ice, flesh…

This latter, Elsa was soon to know. Through it all her hands had never stopped moving.

Suddenly the Door became silent and a metallic crash pierced the air. Elsa remained motionless, momentarily wondering if she had died.

_But that voice._

Elsa subconsciously turned around, recognising instantly what she saw. Anna, frozen solid, her hand raised in defence.

Hans sword, shattered into shards.

It broke the spell, and Elsa only needed seconds of confused hand movements before she felt the overwhelming urge to hug Anna's still form. She looked into Anna's eyes and saw what could only be sacrifice in its purest form. All the grief and despair had come anew, but she felt strangely fearless. The rush of loss possessed her totally.

And she wept. It had been so long, since they had last been so close. Thirteen years of tears were forming with each second passed. There was despair and panic. Grief immortal.

But Elsa knew this feeling. It had left her for so long, she thought she would never know its touch again. She also never thought it would be so cold.

It was love. Fearless, unfiltered love, her tears were the expression. She would never let go of Anna. This she knew. Her hands locked across Anna's shoulder, along her hip. Were she not of ice, Anna's bones would surely have been crushed.

_Im so sorry. That I never showed you how much I cared. How much I missed you. You were the reason I wanted to control it. Im sorry I never said hello, never let you in, waited for you like an expectant pet. Let the door keep us apart. Please, come back. Don't let me kill you…_

All these thoughts spurned through Elsa as she sobbed violently

The air, while still, felt natural, moving almost as it should have. A subtle change. A stranger sound was being emitted, this time from Anna once more. Suddenly Elsa felt strangely warm and in her current posture, unsteady. Bobbing slightly she decided to look up. Annas face had returned. Her whole body had. Elsa hitched her breath, briefly considering her hold on reality. But such doubts were instantly scrubbed away, the surface of her mind refreshed.

"Anna?"

No words followed, the sisters embracing. The first time they had what must have been a lifetime.

_Shes alive!_

Elsa couldn't believe her own perceptions. The hug did not last long enough, but Elsa relented, letting her curiosity surge.

"You sacrificed yourself for me?"

Looking into Annas eyes, Elsa saw her reflection. She was pleading.

"I love you"

Annas reply eased Elsa and shocked her.

_She does love me. She actually does._

However, Elsa herself struggled to make the same conclusion. But Olafs excited utterances brushed this aside.

"An act of true love will thaw a frozen heart"

Elsa clicked. Suddenly, the minds water, the fear, it all made sense. Love was what could win out. Releasing her siblings hand, Elsa, face warm and heart racing, willed herself to remember and embrace Anna's love. Indeed all the love she could remember feeling.

Watching her plague melt away, Elsa felt triumphant and warm. She had never thought to be warm could be so inviting.

She still remembered the door and, allowing herself to ponder, she felt fear. Elsa knew that, as Papa had warned her, no war is clean. Damage will be left. Not every foe can be dealt with. She would have to face it.

Having made their way back to the castle and tied up some loose ends, Elsa resolved to see her work finished. Aware that love can thaw and armed with her reconnection to Anna, she felt safe. Almost secure. But there was worry yet. She had suffered not one but two moments of pure grief today, and she was exhausted. She needed to rest. Making her way to her room after spending the rest of the day with Anna and the others, she remarked how they needed to rediscover each other's minds.

Arriving at her door, she heard nothing. Her hands shook slightly, causing Elsa to curse silently. She felt cheated. She had not endured this day to wind up reverting to her old ways.

The door now sounded like Anna more than ever. And Elsa found she couldn't listen. It felt different. It spoke but its words were empty.

Elsas mind clicked again.

_The door can't talk. _

Training her ear, she found that she could silence the doors mutterings as if by will alone.

Elsa was entranced by her newfound ability, but above all perplexed.

_This shouldn't happen. I can't just shut things off like that. No one can._

Yet she did.

She wondered for a mad, sleep-deprived moment, if the door had indeed ever had a voice of its own. It did sometimes sound as if Anna were speaking, instead of the door.

_But how? It spoke over her…it drowned her out._

Elsa was seriously starting to question her past experiences. She tried to remember what the Door had said. When it had spoken. Her mind was racing.

_It couldn't have all been in my head. _

"You spoke to me. I remember. You asked me why I wouldn't leave. Why I couldn't just walk away."

_Anna had said the same._

Then suddenly it all matched up with horrific detail. The fact it never spoke at night. The way it spoke. How she always assumed it was mocking her. The fact it never spoke when it was opened, or from the outside. Elsa was amazed at her own conclusions

She remembered the first day. The first time Anna had tried to talk to her.

_She went away after that. After that the door started speaking. Was it me? Was it my imagination or was it real?_

Elsa was too curious and driven to take any rest.

She spent the rest of the night debating herself about the past. Of how it could be that the Door and Anna seemed so connected.

_Anna never mocked me. The door did. Except it didn't because it never spoke. But sometimes it sounded like Anna?_

Looking to the door with a wicked and wild smile, Elsa snapped her fingers as if to congratulate herself.

_It WAS Anna. But not all the time!_

Elsa spoke aloud, too unafraid to think in silence.

"I hated myself so much that I thought it was you who spoke to me. I thought Anna never wanted to see me"

She began pacing in circles, collecting her thoughts.

"But I was talking to myself. The whole time. You were just a face behind that voice"

She was breathing heavily, almost out of breath, flustered as she was.

"And when Anna did talk, I thought it was you. Mocking me. Taking her voice and using it against me. I have been so wrong! You never said a word. I just thought you did."

Elsa had never known such freedom, and to say it aloud only served to aggravate her thoughts.

"You became everything I hated about myself. And I thought…" Elsa slipped to her knees, allowing her body to catch up to her head. "I thought I deserved it. I really thought you spoke to me. Only me. But you were never real."

Tears of happiness drifted across her face

"Now I know. It all makes so much sense. And now Anna and I speak again. Love thaws all boundaries and all the doors in the world will not keep me from her."

Looking inward, she remarked mentally how confused and depressed she had really been.

"You tried"

_And you failed._

Elsa still looked at the door, staring it down and daring it to speak. Through it all it was silent. As it had always been.

Her eyes were flames of white. Focused on the door, she knew her next course of action.

_Freezing you would just keep you alive._

_But fire…_


	10. Chapter 10

**It has been a pleasure, my friends. Please review and thank you for reading me this far.**

_Ice is slower than fire._

Her thoughts had unleashed with the instance of a rotting spring.

Elsa had quickly worked at freeing the door from its hinges by freezing and then melting them. Too concentrated to realise quite what she was doing had liberated her conscious for a few minutes.

Freeze, then melt, then freeze, then melt. It seemed to have the desired effect. However being so close to the door and so much in touch with it was exhausting Elsa far too quickly. But she could not find the will to surrender her ice, nor her eyes.

_I will not close my eyes until you are gone._

With one hinge now weakened, the other quickly followed with a stern kick. A fantastic crash took hold of the air. For a moment Elsa considered how this was to be done from here. Her mind quickly selected and then eliminated possible locations. Then, it struck.

_The garden. Yes! The dry patch will be perfect to do it. But how the hell will I carry it?_

As if in Answer Anna promptly appeared, nightgown and all, visibly confused.

"Elsa, why is your door on the ground, are you okay?"

Elsa could hear evident worry and wished to dispel such thoughts in Anna swiftly.

_Anna comes first._

"No no Anna I'm fine. I just need to get rid of this…thing"

Elsa gestured to the door and both looked upon it, Anna with evident curiosity and Elsa with scorn and determination.

"You mean the Door?"

"No Anna, this is not a door"

The younger looked quizzical.

Elsa tensed and then relaxed, pacing herself as much as her tired body would permit. It would not do to fail here.

She smiled.

"Would you like to help me?"

Anna's thoughts were jambled in ways she couldn't quite figure out. Tired herself, she decided to indulge Elsa. She would go along no matter what, feeling a kind of ancient but not abandoned sisterly responsibility.

"Of course"

They then both took a side of the door, which was itself on its side, and made their way downstairs.

"So, what exactly are you going to do?" Anna asked

"Im going to get rid of it Anna. Until it is nothing"

"Oh. Is this going to help you?" Anna was lost to her sister's logic.

"Yes Anna, this will help me"

With inhuman strength Anna held her tongue as they guided each other's steps carefully, but Elsa could see her siblings desire to know more.

_Come on now. You've kept her away for so long. Let her in. Tell her._

But Elsa struggled with the thought. She tried to think logically. What would this ultimately change. Another door would be needed. The money to replace it…

But Elsa knew this was what she needed. She must throw away this burden. Cast away forever to death this nightmare object, the focus of her worst side, the same side of the door she now held with her frail arms.

Seeing her sister evidently strain to hold up the aging oak on her side was not helping Elsa keep this silence that had befallen them. In sympathy, she spoke.

_Besides, we're almost there_

"You see, after I locked myself away, the door sort of became my company. And I thought that you would open it on your own."

Anna cast her a questioning look, but held her speech, realising this was important for Elsa.

"But you didn't. It wasn't your fault but I thought you never wanted me to come out. I thought the door was…a person that kept me safe."

Elsa could feel all the old signs claim her, but she felt invigorated by Anna's presence. Her love was carrying both them and this door. A foundation upon which love could stand…or fall.

They locked eyes, seemingly interlocking thoughts too.

Anna said nothing, urging Elsa to continue.

"But I didn't realise it was playing with my mind. I just…lost control. I believed it hated me and that it had…a kind of voice like yours. The whole time I thought I couldn't hear you when it was really just the door fooling me"

Elsa paused intensely, looking at her sister as a doctor would a patient, looking for signs of life and understanding. She blinked rapidly, briefly flustered. Her thoughts were taking on what physical existence they could.

Anna breathed before speaking.

"So all those times I knocked and waited you were afraid? Of the Door itself?"

Elsa did not trust her words as her emotions were a tangle of warm and cold, light and dark. She could only nod.

Anna looked with extreme sympathy but also chiefly understanding. Elsa choked to speak but Anna tried to relax her with her own words.

"Oh Elsa, how could I have left you like that?"

Elsa was struck by emotions so impossible she felt near incredulous. But she was too compassionate.

"Anna I-"

Anna looked away to the gates directly ahead.

"No no, I should have tried harder. Mama and Papa always said you were ill, but that didn't help. They were the ones who locked you away. Not you"

She said her last words with clear defiance. What she hid was that it was for her own health as well as the Queens. Elsa found herself dumbfounded at her sisters solidarity. Before she could say anything in reply, Anna went on.

"I never wanted to believe you were ill. I was so worried. I won't lie I got impatient and eventually I stopped trying all the time to get you to come out but…"

Anna failed to stop a tear emerging from her eyes

Her voice cracked. "If id only known what was happening to you. What the door was making you think"

She looked to the Door with a pained expression and found that for the second occasion, she was looking upon it for the first time.

"I never thought something like this could cause pain like that"

Both sisters had silently made their way to the gardens, walking through the stone pathway, the door silent as it moved along the grass.

Elsa didn't know how she felt in her own head. She was too tired for words and thoughts fell not far behind that sensation.

_She's too good to be my sister._

Her heart really felt like it was going to kill her. It was going too fast, running a body that had little energy left. But as they lay the door on the mound of earth, she found some other-worldly energy in herself to see this through. Her hands shook slightly to the breeze. Or was it the other thing?

Anna was trying to gage exactly what Elsa was about to do. Doubling back to fetch a lantern for light, despite the moon, her own thoughts reversed as Elsa guarded the door.

She felt guilt for being too flippant with her hermit of a sibling in times now gone. But at the same time, she was glad that finally she could play her part. For Anna, this was simply the following of orders. And she would follow to the end.

Anna returned with the light, standing next to Elsa expectantly.

Elsa breathed deeply and longly, gathering her strength.

"Anna, I need the lamp. Stand back"

Anna handed the lamp over with some reluctance. She could feel Elsa's vulnerability.

But so could Elsa.

Both felt the elder's hands shake a little as she took the object.

She held the lamp tightly as she made sure Anna was well clear of the door, motioning gently with her hand. Anna refused to move until Elsa pleaded with her sky blue eyes. Anna complied silently, slightly uncomfortable with the silence between them but more than anything worried how sleepy the older sister seemed. Only her wish to be of help was keeping her still and quiet. For Elsa.

The moon was out and it cast an interesting light on the pale blue exterior of the door. It was her side.

_The side that tortured me to madness. The side that laughed, shouted, screamed. _

Anna was amazed how flaky and dry the door seemed. She concluded Elsa must have tried to destroy it before with a gasp. Elsa thankfully did not hear it, or in any case made no effort towards acknowledgement.

_After this, Elsa and I really do need to talk._

Elsa stood, frozen, clutching the lamp close to her figure. She was still shivering and shaking. She felt so out in the open.

_How am I still going?_

Anna sensed Elsa's distress and put a hand on her shoulder. To Elsa, the touch was warm, filled with love. It made her smile, even as she stared at her life's cover. The day's events had made her feel more loved than she ever thought possible. She had corrupted everything she touched. No longer, now she stood above her gatekeeper. Former gatekeeper.

_Love will thaw. But you will feel so much more than that. To you I'll do what day does to the previous night and the sun to snow. Forever._

She stared with dead eyes at her door, her protector and damnation. Shrugging Anna off quite reflexively, she drew her hand back and with obvious effort smashed the lantern several feet in front of her. The heat was instant and flames lit up the night. Anna stayed back, wary of the flames. Elsa stayed still, mesmerised by the fire.

_The flames will do what I never could. No voice may be yours._

"Now your control is over. Love thaws. But wood burns"

A tremendous weight suddenly fell on Elsa's body, her hands and feet no longer supporting her, she fell to her side. Anna was up and in an instant was pulling Elsa up by the hand.

"You are too tired for this. I'm taking you back inside"

But Elsa's eyes would not move and her body imitated them.

"Elsa…"

Elsa felt lost in the flames. They were…beautiful.

_You locked me away and stole my sister's voice, you made me believe you served me and made me think I could hear you when all I heard were demons. I was so lost. So cold. Now, as you die, I feel warm. I am alive._

Elsa's eyes remained dry. She was drifting to sleep on her feet, her awareness dimmed.

She hardly moved, feeling oddly comfortable as her oppression fell away.

Jerked back to the world by Anna, her arm draped precariously over Anna's shoulders, she was half carried away from the door. Elsa peered back every few seconds, as if to be sure.

"I did it Anna. Me. I stopped it"

"Yes you did Elsa. You really did it"

Anna encouraged her. This was Elsa's victory.

Guiding Elsa back to her open room, Anna placed her carefully down on the chair in her room. Elsa's bed looked unslept in, quickly telling Anna how tired her sibling truly was.

Elsa stirred, breathing awake for a moment. Realising where she was, she was happy. That Anna would bother.

"I love you Anna"

Anna knelt down, not content with straining Elsa's neck upward or causing panic, Elsa's mind at the forefront of her own. Cupping her cheeks, Anna replied, feeling vindicated.

"And I love you. Whatever happens, you need time to adjust. And that's ok"

Elsas eyes were barely open now, unlike her doorway. But she felt nice and heated, smiling to Anna as best she could.

Anna took her hand, as if to keep her awake. "Just one sec, ok?"

Anna stood up and walked to nowhere in particular. Elsa was half sleeping, remembering the very long day of events. She remembered the door, how it lit up the night, playing with the shadows of the moon. The clocks. How their silence answered every search in her brain. The water. It felt like the calming stream she had so often sought. Unconsciously she felt at peace but above all, content.

She held out her hands and watched them with a soft gaze.

Looking to them, she found them still.

**I figured the last line should match the first. This is the end of our tale. I hope you enjoyed the journey.**

**Thank you to my friend Trickmaster42, without whom this story would not have lasted as long as it had. You were an inspiration.**

**And thank you dear Reader. **


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